Ed lay on the ground, cautiously poking his head out.

The mountain was so high that he couldn't see his head downwards or down, and perhaps the wind and snow were obscuring his vision, but in any case, he didn't see the shadow of the ice dragon.

Isis has not returned for two or three days. Ed didn't want to just huddle here and wait, but even the elves probably couldn't climb down this hole, and he was terrified and his legs went weak just by looking down.

He was worried that Iss would think he was dead, and he would never go back, but he really couldn't think of anything about being trapped in such a place. He had tried praying to Nyo, calling Celebrian's name out loud, but to no avail.

"I-Si ——!......"

He lay there, screaming at the snowstorm, not expecting any miracle. With such a strong wind, it's no wonder that his voice can be heard.

But he soon heard another kind of wind—the very regular sound of the wind brought up by the huge wings.

His eyes widened, fearing that it was just his hallucination. The ice dragon was getting closer, and its figure was clearly visible.

"Is!" Ed waved his hand and shouted happily, but the ice dragon just stopped in mid-air, staring at him without saying a word, and didn't come any closer.

It took Ed a moment to realize that he was probably in the way of the ice dragon, and immediately got up and ran into the hole.

"Matilda!" he cried out to the woman who was on her knees, trying to keep the last little flame alive, "He's back!

Matilda looked back, she should have felt scared, or at least a little nervous, but what came out of her mouth was her main concern at the moment: "Did he come back with firewood and food?"

Ed was stunned for a moment, this kind of conversation was a little weird, it made him feel like a litter of children waiting for his father to return from a hunt. Matilda shook her head at herself blankly, with an incredulous expression.

The wind was blowing from behind Ed, and he quickly stepped aside. The ice dragon half-folded its wings and slid low across the ground, tossing them with a pile of dead branches and a frozen leg of mutton, and landed heavily.

Barely taking a fancy to Ed, it shuffled deeper into the cavern, fell to its stomach with a thud, and closed its eyes.

"Is?" Ed walked over, scratching the ice dragon's belly in confusion, wondering why it acted as if it didn't exist, "Hey, man, I'm still alive!"

The ice dragon let out an angry breath from his nostrils, but still didn't open his eyes.

Of course it knew he was alive, and it knew that if it hadn't been for some force that protected him—something that stabbed its palm so hard as it got out of hand, he would have been dead.

Dead at its hands.

It doesn't remember how it rushed out of the cave, but it remembers the feeling, frightened, helpless, completely overwhelmed, it didn't dare to think about what it had done, it just flapped its wings desperately, trying to get away, far away.

But it can't escape itself.

Isn't it something to be proud of as a dragon, more ruthless, more powerful, and without weakness...... It just wanted to find a place to cry out loud.

But it can't cry, and a dragon doesn't shed tears.

It could only fly without stopping, hiding in the clouds, with no purpose, no direction, just using its fastest speed, blindly rushing forward until it was exhausted and began to fall down.

It saw a sea of ice, the endless blue dotted with huge icebergs. It can find any island and sleep endlessly until the world is destroyed and the universe returns to nothingness. No one can find it, no one will bother it with all kinds of problems.

It was then that it suddenly remembered a problem - that cave, too, no one could find, no one could climb up, no one could escape.

If it doesn't go back, sooner or later, the people in the cave will starve to death, or freeze to death, and die slowly and inexplicably, as painful as being slapped to death by it.

And it wasn't sure if the half-elf priest could find Ed.

It hesitated around several times, but flew back helplessly.

It made up its mind not to listen to Ed's nonsense anymore. It is now half tired and needs to rest, and when it has rested enough, it will take out all these annoying creatures and throw them away, and then go back to the ice sea, and stay quietly alone, until the sea is dry and the rocks are rotten, and even the gods no longer exist.

But Ed wouldn't let it go. He started by scratching its belly only tentatively, then began to scratch its front legs.

"Hey, Is......" he called the name that didn't belong to him in a long voice, and couldn't stop rambling as usual, "aren't you happy? Why are you unhappy? I almost died, but you see, I'm not unhappy at all...... Okay, I probably said something that upset you, but you know, I always say the wrong thing, but I don't blame you for almost crushing me, and you don't have to be so angry all the time. Let's make peace, okay?"

He patted the front paw that nearly killed him.

The ice dragon opened its eyes slit.

He said "peace...... It's as if they just fought painlessly, and not almost died under its claws.

Ed looked at it with a grin, still not afraid of it, and wanted to run away from it, so that it almost wanted to knock his brain open to see how it was long.

But it couldn't, it could only close its eyes in annoyance, completely unsure of what to do with this guy.

"Okay......" Ed, who had received no response anyway, finally sighed and sat down with his back to his chest, but still muttered, "Are you tired? You can sleep for a while, I'll be here all the time. I know how good you can sleep, but if you sleep like this for decades, by the time you wake up, I'll be an old man...... I still have a lot of things I want to do with you, and if I become an old man, I won't have the strength to sit on your neck and bask in the sun...... You're going to let me sit on your neck for a ride, aren't you? You've let Fili sit on it! He's the most hated paladin......"

The ice dragon listened to the boring nonsense, and his breathing gradually became slow and steady.

It really wants to sleep for decades and get all its worries to sleep, but alas, as long as it doesn't wake up for three days, this talkative guy will go hungry.

It's glad he's alive — but it's not going to tell him at all that Ed Singal has always been good at stalking, and it knows that well.

He's a friend of theirs.

The ice dragon let out a muffled, low grunt and sank into one of its most restful slumbers in a long time.

Scott lifted the thick curtain of the door, and the cold wind swept the snowflakes into his arms, forcing him to retreat honestly.

He had slept for too long, and it had been two days since he woke up, and he wanted to leave immediately, but his guide shook his head and told him that a blizzard was coming, and that they had better wait.

He had not yet seen a blizzard on the plains, but seeing that the barbarians in the camp looked like they were facing a great enemy, he thought that it was indeed not possible to fight against the disasters of the past by his will alone, so he had to stay.

His wounds were gone. The young savage who followed him, Bomb, was not surprised by this—judging by his boundless adoring gaze and respectful attitude, Scott was probably already omnipotent in his eyes.

That made Scott smile wryly, if that was the case, why didn't he yell at the sky and let the blizzard roll somewhere else?

Someone was banging heavily on the curtain outside, and Scott jumped up and ripped it open, causing Bomb and another savage to bow their heads and rush in.

"I'm sorry, Reverend, but we have no intention of disturbing your rest. Bang Pu said that he was still polite and uncomfortable. His beard and hair were covered with snowflakes like cotton wool, and he looked like an old man with a white beard, as did another barbarian, but they didn't care about it.

"Something to do with me?" Scott unconsciously looked forward to it, and the waiting for nothing was really tireless.

"Dutton, the chief of the Benlu tribe, would like to see you in person. Bomb said, wanting him to introduce the barbarian next to him, "Durin is his messenger. ”

Durin simply saluted him and said straight to the point, "Our chief has more news of those monsters, and he wants you to know too." ”

His lingua franca wasn't as fluent as Bomb, but it was refreshing to hear Scott, who had a headache at the endless calls of honorific titles like "Lord Reverend" and "you."

"Of course!" Scott asked with a smile, "Now?".

Dutton's tent was no bigger than the others, and Scott didn't know if that was because of the chief's own will, or because the tent was too large to be easily blown away by the wind. But when he stepped into the tent, the warmth inside was beyond his expectations.

There were no politeness or pleasantries, no cumbersome or strange etiquette, and a barbarian by the fire made an inviting gesture to him.

"Come here, pastor, and sit beside me. ”

Scott sat down. The barbarian casually pointed to his chest.

"Dutton. He said.

Scott smiled and pointed to his chest as well, "Scott." ”

He looked curiously at the chieftain who was completely different from the stern and proud Tulum, who had only written "I am a chief" on his face. Barbarians have rough skin but are not very wrinkled, making it difficult for humans to tell how old they are. Dutton was still strong, but his hair and beard had begun to turn gray, perhaps in old age.

But the savage who sat to his right must have been older than him—his face and body had begun to shrink, his hair was thinning, and the red tattoos that were different from the others looked a little hideous, but his face had a calm expression.

"Sio, our shaman. Dutton briefed him briefly.

Shaman – Scott knows that shamans have almost a higher status in the tribe than chiefs, as they are the only ones who can communicate with their ancestors, a bit like priests among humans.

Oh, he's a priest...... He forgets this from time to time. It's very interesting to see a shaman who doesn't believe in God and a priest whose first reaction is to purify any ghost still wandering in this world. He remembered that Tulum had told him that the shaman of the Winter Wolf tribe was no longer able to summon the spirits of his ancestors, and he wondered if the old man could still do it.

Perhaps the question in his eyes was too obvious, and the old man, who had been silent, suddenly said a few words, and Dutton laughed and translated for him: "He said, don't guess, son, as an old man who is about to stay with his ancestors, I can still help a little." ”

Scott smiled a little awkwardly and bowed to the old man in apology.

And he was right. Dutton retracted his smile, "He found for us where the devils were hiding." The footprints hidden by the snow could not be traced, but he found clues. ”